The Carpe Dentium Affair
by MLaw
Summary: <html><head></head>Napoleon is sent on a bizarre assignment, trying to discover why a number of people are suddenly attacked and robbed...with only a tooth being taken. He enlists Illya's help while the Russian is in London. pre-saga</html>
1. Chapter 1

It was possibly the strangest assignment of Napoleon Solo's career with U.N.C.L.E. had to force himself not to let his jaw drop as he listened intently to Alexander Waverly as he spoke at their early morning briefing.

It was Friday, of all days and the Number 1 agent of Section II had plans for a romantic evening with a recent staff edition, Samantha Lynn Schubert, a nurse in the Medical Section.

It was all mapped out in his head….dinner at Tavern on the Green, a moonlight carriage ride in Central Park, then if he played his cards right, a trip back to her place for something much more intimate.

He'd had an encounter with her in the closet in the Map Room and that was all he needed to know, just some innocent necking mind you. However, she was willing beauty with golden blonde hair, deep hazel eyes and dimpled cheeks, and built...well, just right to say the least.

In their brief encounter he discovered she hated to be called Sam...no, only Samantha would do for her.

"Mr. Solo, ahem," Waverly cleared his throat. "Are you listening."

Napoleon straightened up in his seat. "Yes sir, you were saying there's been a series of assaults around the city...but wouldn't they be under the purview of the police department?" He mentally reminded himself to cancel his date.

"Normally one would think as such young man, but these so-called assaults fall under the category of 'unusual.' It seems these victims are not only assaulted at gunpoint, they are drugged with a sleep dart and when they awaken, they find nothing has been taken except a single tooth….a left bottom molar to be precise."

Napoleon's brow furrowed as he thought for a moment.

"Could they all be operatives or assets of some sort? We've used false teeth and caps...the Soviets, STASI all use caps to hide cyanide pills."

"Not in this case. Every victim, eleven of them to be precise, has had their actual tooth forcibly removed, and not in a professional manner I might add. The teeth were literally ripped from their jaws."

"Hmm, other than losing a tooth, is there anything else the victims have in common?"

"None that we can ascertain as of yet. That I will leave in your capable hands to discover. You'll find their full dossiers, and photographs here." Waverly tossed a folder onto the circular table, and giving it a spin, rotated it for the documents to stop in front of his agent.

"At present all except one of the victims have simply been drugged before the so-called extraction took place...all except the victim whose photo is on the top of the pile."

He waited for Napoleon to open the folder, not really preparing him for the first image that met his eyes.

It was of a dark-haired woman lying in a pool of blood...she was obviously dead.

"That photo Mr. Solo, is of someone you may recognize. Her name is Susan Power of our cryptology section. Like the others, she is missing the same molar. It is being presumed that since she was a trained UNCLE employee; she may have resisted her attacker with more, shall we say...fervor. Her personal revolver is missing."

Napoleon stared at the gruesome photograph, not saying a word. He'd dated the girl not two weeks ago. She was smart, vivacious and very sexy.

He tried to let his visions of her naked in bed, offering herself to him so willingly. That made the shock of her death all the more horrible to him. There was nothing he could think of to soften the blow.

Napoleon shook that feeling from psyche, sublimating it as best he could. His anger rose in place of it, though he kept that in check as well.

He left wht conference room, ignoring the many employees going about their business in the grey corridors as he walked to the elevator.

George Dennell was the only one standing inside as the door opened, and as Napoleon stepped in he automatically pressed the button for the floor where his office was located.

"Gee Napoleon," George said in a bit too chipper of a voice," I just heard about Susan Power. That's really awful isn't it?"

Silence was George's response, and he was smart enough to cop on that Solo didn't want to talk about it. He guessed Napoleon had been assigned to investigate Susan's death.

"Ding." The elevator doors opened.

As the senior agent stepped out to the floor, Dennell called out to him.

"I hope you get who did it Napoleon."

Solo turned to face the man." I will George. I promise you that…" the doors closed, ending the conversation…" and I promise her."

He headed to his office and once inside he looked the doors, and released his rage; slamming his fist on his desk. Napoleon grabbed the nearest object, his crystal ashtray and hurled it against the wall; shattering it into countless pieces.

He huffed, now annoyed at himself for losing his cool, and picked up the received to the phone on his desk; promptly calling housekeeping.

When the office was back to normal, including a replacement ashtray for his desk; Napoleon sat down, and began to flip through the dossiers.

Page after page revealed nothing, there was nothing common between them at all. Well there was...the fact that they all lived in New York city, but they were scattered all over the place, and came from different walks of life...from middle class to the very wealthy.

None of it made sense. They'd been attacked in different locations and varying times of the day. No witnesses of course…

This was going to be a long night, and he called one of the secretaries to get him a carafe of coffee and a sandwich from the Commissary.

He was on his fourth cup of black coffee when he saw it. Travel history...every victim had been in the U.K within the last six months. Now he had to backtrack and find out their itineraries.

Hours later the final pieces fit into this very strange puzzle.

Every victim, including Susan Powers had been in London, though their length of stays and the dates varied. It was where they stayed that was the last piece…

And at the moment someone near and dear to him happened to be in London right now.

Napoleon picked up his communicator.

"Overseas relay- Illya Kuryakin please."

The familiar chirp called the Russian from his sleep with a moan. "This had better be good," Illya mumbled as he dug himself out from under his blanket.

"Are you alone tovarisch?"

"Of course. Why would I... nevermind. Now why have you called me at such a ridiculous hour. It is three o'clock in the morning."

"My aren't we crabby?"

"Napoleon I have not slept in nearly two days; please what do you want? I swear if this is one your "I am bored" calls, you will pay dearly."

"Easy chum, this is strictly business."

Solo filled Illya in on his assignment, though leaving out some details and lastly he spoke of Susan's death.

"I am sorry to hear that my friend, though did not know her. How can I help?" Illya was wide awake now, wrapping himself in his heavy terry cloth robe.

"I need you to check out the Connaught Hotel. It's on Carlo's Place in the Mayfair section of London.

"Hmm, a convenient coincidence as that is where I happen to be staying at the moment." Illya turned on the light, revealing the dark wood paneling on the walls. He walked over to a red leather armchair and sat down, pouring himself a glass of vodka from a bottle on a nearby table.

"Really?" Napoleon eyes went wide. "How did you manage an expensive hotel like that with Accounting? He sounded a bit miffed.

"Guest quarters are full at headquarters because of a regional meeting. There are no beds available in Medical as there has been an outbreak of a virulent flu. There is some sort of convention in the city and all of the reasonable hotels are booked solid, so accounting had no choice but to approve the Connaught."

"Now if you were in with the girls there, one of them would have surely offered for you a stay at their place. Would have made for a more interesting visit, if you know what I mean?" Napoleon chuckled.

"Will you please get your mind out of the bedroom for once? Now if you let me get back to sleep, I will investigate your list when I am fully awake and a bit more refreshed. Send your list of names and the dates they were here to headquarters. Now goodnight Napoleon… and my condolences. I am aware you recently dated Miss Powers."

"Thanks tovarisch, and sorry for waking you. I'll see you soon. Solo out."

Napoleon closed his communicator, satisfied his partner would get the ball rolling for him until he arrived. It was time to make his traveo arrangements to London.

Looking at his wristwatch, he noted it was just past ten o'clock...too late to catch a commercial flight. Napoleon lifted the telephone receiver, contacting Transportation to get authorization to use the U.N.C.L.E. Learjet.

He pulled a suitcase from the closet he kept stored there for just such travel. After a quick trip to the locker room downstairs for a shower, he'd head off to the garage for a car. It wouldn't take him very long to drive to the airport, not this time of night...


	2. Chapter 2

Takeoff from Kennedy airport would him at Heathrow around five p.m. no doubt Illya would meet him there, but this time he planned on contacting his surly partner at a more reasonable time.

Arrangements were made and Kuryakin would indeed be there.."with bells on," he had said rather cheerily this time. Napoleon supposed a good rest, and probably a hearty meal had made the Russian a happy camper.

When the American agent deplaned, there was no sign of his partner. Solo waited patiently then finally stepped in to an out of the way place and pulled his communicator to

contact Illya.

"Channel F-Kuryakin."

"Hello?" An unfamiliar voice of the feminine persuasion answered.

"Who is this?" Napoleon calmly asked.

"I can ask the same of you," she spoke in a distinctly British accent.

"I asked first...sweetheart. You have a lovely voice by the way," he turned on the charm.

The girl immediately fell under his spell. "I'm nurse Heddy Thompkins of U.N.C.L.E. Medical here in London."

"How do you do Heddy. My name is Solo, Napoleon Solo Number one Section two and CEA for U.N.C.L.E. Northwest. May I ask why you answered Mr. Kuryakin's communicator?"

It suddenly dawned on him that he actually might have interrupted a romantic interlude between Heddy and his partner. I seemed inconceivable that Illya could have been injured doing simple reconnaissance for him.

"But no," he argued with himself, "Illya would never blow him off for a woman. He was the one who did those sort of things...from time to time. So now that left only the other possibility."

"Oh I'm sorry Mr. Solo, Mr. Kuryakin is in Medical. He's being held for observation as he was attacked in his hotel and drugged.

"Is he all right?"

"He'll be fine, no injuries that we can find; just the after effects from the drug injected into him.

"Tell me...is he missing a tooth?"

"Excuse me?"

"Did one of his molars get pulled?"

"Not that I'm aware of...hold on a sec."

He could hear her voice and Illya's in the background…

"No sir no teeth missing. He asked for you to, and I quote, 'get him out of this damned place."

Napoleon smiled. That was a sure sign his friend was going to be fine.

"Thank you Heddy. Please tell him I'll be there shortly. Solo out."

.

Napoleon stepped outside the terminal, giving a loud whistle and a wave of his hand, hailing down one of the many black hackney cabs trolling the airport.

He was dropped off in front of an innocuous used book shoppe and upon entering, he was acknowledged with a nod from an older man behind the counter.

"Rare books sir?"

"Yes, thank you."

Solo followed the man to the back, passing behind a deep green velvet curtain, to a small room with shelves filled with old volumes on all four walls.

Napoleon walked to the rear wall, taking hold of a copy of 'The Adventures of Mr. Verdant Green,' by Cuthbert Bede, giving it a tilt towards himself.

The wall slowly opened, revealing the reception area of the London headquarters of U.N.C.L.E.

"Welcome back Napoleon, good to see you again," a lovely brunette operative greeted him.

"Regina my dear...the pleasure is all mine," he leaned forward, letting her pin on his ID badge.

"Mr. Beldon is expecting you, after your visit to Mr. Kuryakin of course. He's been putting up quite a fuss in Medical I heard, so be prepared."

"Regina, I'm always prepared," He smiled at her as the secondary entrance opened silently and he stepped through.

Napoleon headed directly up to the Medical section, though unlike New York, the complex here was much smaller. The buildings making up headquarters were no more than two stories high, and most of them had operations below the street level, though it all took up an entire block...it wasn't a long one. It had a small but secure parking garage connected from the street that ran behind headquarters.

Upon his arrival at the Medical wing, there was no need for Napoleon to ask where his partner was as he saw a bedpan come flying out one door and ricochet off the corridor wall.

Next he heard the strained voice of a woman; a nurse who stepped out the door, red-faced as she spoke.

"If you do that one more time Mr. Kuryakin, I bloody swear I'll 'ave you put in restraint and you won't some much as be able to scratch your arse!"

She spotted Solo out of the corner of her eye. "Oh you're here. 'Bout time. Maybe you can calm 'is nibs as I've 'ad with 'im, I have."

Napoleon saluted her with a click of his heels, noticing she shrugged, giving him a bit of the cold shoulder. She was definitely not Nurse Thompkins.

He let it go, and peeked around the door at his partner.

Illya was in his bed, scowling as usual with his arms crossed in front of his chest, looking very much like a petulant child.

"Hi there," he announced his presence to the Russian." Dare I ask how you're feeling?"

"How do you think I feel? I am being held prisoner and tormented as they incessantly take my temperature, my pulse, my blood pressure. I feel like a damned pin cushion from all the vials of blood they've taken..._kak vampiry (like vampires)." _Illya hands moved as he spoke, accentuating his words.

"There is nothing wrong with me, just the usual residuals I experience from a sleep dart and nothing more...well that, and my lower jaw is unusually sore, but there is no tooth missing, I assure you. Maybe I was sucker punched before being darted, though I have no memory of it."

"Illya, take a breath with you?" Napoleon smiled at him. He was almost sorry he'd asked how the man felt.

"Fine," he huffed, crossing his arms again.

"So can we backtrack a little chum?" What were you able to find out about the people on the list, if anything. I would think your snooping around alerted someone, and that's probably why you were attacked."

"As I had surmised. The only information I discovered on the comings and goings of the victims was that all of them had some dentistry work done while here. It was at a small office located on Penny Lane Junction in the Prince's Park area. The last thing I recall was stepping into the reception area...there was a dark-haired woman behind the desk and…"

"And?"

"That is all I remember."

"We need to send a team there immediately."

"Harry took care of it; the place was already cleared out. Napoleon does this make any sense to you?"

"Well chum as a matter of fact it does. You see the people on the list I sent you all have attacked, and having only their left lower molars forcibly removed.

Illya's hand went immediately to his jaw. "Napoleon, look inside my mouth and tell me what you see?"

"Okay, say ahhhh," Solo grabbed a tongue depressor from a jar on the bed table. "Hmmm, besides having no fillings...everything looks, wait a minute. Do you have a false crown on one of your molars?"

"No, all my teeth are my own."

"Well one of your molars is a distinctly different color from the other teeth...specifically your left bottom molar. I think it's time you have some dental x-rays done tovarisch."

An hour later the x-ray results were in and they showed a crown on top of Illya's perfectly good tooth, beneath that crown was a black dot.

The dentist came to the conclusion that the crown was cemented on, permanently. The only way to get to what was beneath it was to remove the entire tooth.

"Nyet," Illya refused with a sharp hand gesture. I will not sacrifice my tooth. There has to be another way."

"Well there may be a way to drill through the top of the crow and sort of chisel it from your own tooth."

"Do it then," Illya said.

"I won't be able to give you much of an anesthesia for it, only laughing gas perhaps."

"That won't do Doc," Solo interrupted," Illya doesn't react well to laughing gas.

Well I could inject him with a bit of a local."

"Excuse me Doctor, I am still here," Illya said, laying yet again in his bed in medical.

Another hour passed, now finding Solo and Kuryakin in Harry Beldon's office after the procedure was done.

"Gentlemen," he said, lounging in and oversized chair behind his oversized, ornately carved desk. The office was still as Illya recalled it, filled with Greek statuary, large palm trees and plants...it was pure decadence; something Harry knew the Russian found most irksome.

"Alexander has filled me in on your mission Mr. Solo, and now with this interesting development with you, Mr. Kuryakin, what are your thoughts gentlemen?"

"I think we have a dead end here," Napoleon said spoke first. "Your people found nothing at the dentist's office. Not so much as a fingerprint, correct?"

"Yes. We presumed someone at the hotel had recommended this particular dentist as our victims all conveniently came down with a severe toothache, though it is perplexing how that was arranged. A man named Stephen Peacock who worked as the hotel concierge seems to have disappeared and we can only presume he was the contact. Even with this we only have a small view of that total scheme," Harry held up a microdot on the tip on his pinky finger. Returning it carefully to a white card on his desk: he pressed a button on his control panel.

A video screen lowered into view, and the image of a schematic appeared.

"This is what is on the microdot, but unfortunately it is incomplete. If you will notice it is marked off to the right, 12 of 12. It is the final piece to a puzzle which I am afraid may lie back in New York," Harry shrugged. "There is no way to know what this is without the what we presume are the other eleven microdots."

"It is some sort of circuit board, miniaturized from the looks of it," Illya said. Still that gave them no clue as to what it was for.

That settled that. Solo and Kuryakin were on their way back to New York within the hour. The schematic had been transmitted to Waverly and now the only thing to do was to get Illya out on the street, under surveillance of course and see if whoever it was took the bait. Given his was the final piece, it was most likely they'd want to get it, and do it quickly to complete the plans for whatever it was.

Jet lag notwithstanding, after they arrived at headquarters, Alexander Waverly opted to have Kuryakin simply take a walk to Central Park, with dozens of agents hidden along the route.

Solo, though normally cool and collected was nervous, but it was more of an edginess, wanting to get things over with and find out what this was all about. Given the means by which the presumed microdots had been transported, whatever the device they would be used to build couldn't be for anything good.

As Illya walked out the door and up the steps at Del Floria's, Napoleon stopped him.

"Let me walk with you for a bit chum."

"I will be fine, there is no need," Illya waved him off.

"Indulge me chum?"

"Suit yourself."

Together they walked up the three steps to the sidewalk, heading along the block and making their way towards the park. It was no more than a half hour on foot, and left ample opportunity for whomever it was to make their move against the Russian.

Halfway to the park Solo backed off, letting his partner go the rest of his way on his own, though Illya was far from being that. He had a tracking device under his jacket collar, and as Kuryakin put a good leg under it; he passed a number of agents covering his spootted a man sweeping the sidewalk, someone selling newspapers, a woman with a baby carriage and many others seemingly going on about their daily business to the innocent eye, but they were all U.N.C.L.E. operatives.

As he entered the park, he spotted Mark Slate disguised as a pretzel vendor, and Illya stopped, buying himself one.

"Would you like mustard with that sir," Mark said.

"I think not, thank you." He winked, nibbling on his snack, and heading farther into the park. There he spotted April Dancer sitting on a bench feeding bird seed to the pigeons.

"Testing one two, helloooo," Napoleon's voice came through Illya's earpiece. "Can you hear me chum?"

"Please, softly," Illya pretended to cough as he spoke into a microphone sewn to his jacket cuff. He made his way toward the first pass through tunnel, and moments later there was where it happened.

A burly man stepped from the shadows, his hand in his pocket as if he had a gun aimed at the Russian.

Illya held up his hands, speaking loudly. "I will give you my wallet, but please do not hurt me."

The stranger withdrew his hand, aiming his gun at the blond. "I don't want your money...now stand still, this won't hurt...much."

Illya dove forward, catching the man off guard as he tackled him to the ground. Second later, Solo appeared and did Slate, Dancer and three other agents, pulling the Russian away to safety as they subdued his attacker. A rather nasty pair of pliers was found on him along with Susan Power's weapon. and thereby sealed his fate.

He was whisked away to headquarters and after spending a half-hour with Illya and Napoleon playing good cop-bad cop, he sang like a canary.

It was no surprise to find out that it was their usual adversary T.H.R.U.S.H. up to no good again.

A raid was made on a tenement in the Bronx and the rest of the microdots were seized; another satrap shut down. The man who accosted Illya in the park, was the muscle man and resposible for all the attacks. His name was Ezra Deeks, and would be brought to justice for the death of Susan Power.

At the wrap up debrief with Waverly, he indicated the microdots were the plans for a new and more powerful Ultimate Computer.

"Well done gentlemen,"he actually smiled. "This will definitely put a dent in our feathered friends plans for a good while. We seized the opportunity and worked with precision for a successful and safe end to this."

Solo and Kuryakin left the conference room side by side, heading back to their office.

"Let's celebrate chum, what about a couple of steaks and beers at my place?" Napoleon suggested.

Illya grinned. "I will never turn down an opportunity for a good home cooked meal and after that a good nights sleep. So perhaps _carpe diem et carpe noctem.," _he added in Latin with a chuckle.

"_Seize the day and the night_?" Solo laughed."More like C_arpe Dentium_ don't you think?"

"Really, '_seize the teeth'_? Please Napoleon, your puns just keep getting worse," Illya moaned.


End file.
